The Reaper Chronicles

Pit Stop

    On a moderate scrappers trading post coasting through federation space, a small, spiny, ship coasted to a gentle hover. "Samson, get the tether, would you?" Lee hollered through the narrow passageway that led to the upper deck. He was still suiting up. For all its mass and light gravitational value, the trading post had no semblance of atmosphere, and therefore no public air. 

    "On it." Samson called back. Lee heard the whish of their ship's air being sucked into the airlock, denoting his partner's exit. Having finished struggling into his undersuit, Lee double tapped the sensor on his collar. He felt a gentle snap all around his body as the previously white, somewhat baggy bodysuit pulled in snug in an instant, conforming to the bounty hunter's tall, lean, build. The suit was meant to fit like a second skin--and did, usually. The only parts exposed were his feet, hands, and his head halfway up the neck. The under suit darkened to a dark charcoal grey when it snapped tight, revealing little power lines, sensors, and indicators still in white trailing all over his body.  Lee moved around a bit to make sure everything was comfortable. There were few things worse than not realizing one had an undersuit wedgie until after they were geared up in their exo and outside the ship. 

    Everything feeling as it should, Lee stepped up onto the raised platform that held the front half of his bisected exo-suit. It was suspended at various points with the arms stretched out forward as if they were reaching to pick something up off the shelf in front of it. Lee mimicked the gesture and, looking like a zombie from a bad horror film, slid into his "Worker's Classic 3940 Excursion Suit." After slipping in, the back half of the exo folded down like a giant clam over Lee's back where it held him trapped momentarily as the suit's smart fibers interwove the two halves into one, perfectly sealed, space-excursion vehicle. The machine released the bounty hunter and then folded back up to its original open position. Knowing what was about to play in his helmet, Lee mocked his suit's AI as it ran diagnostics: "Seal complete. Zero leaks detected. You have one week's worth of charge." Lee said in high pitched unison with the honeyed female voice-over. It had been weeks since their last stop and Lee wanted out.

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    Samson pressed the face of his helmet up against the plasma barrier of a display case. "Lee come take a look at this." He said, giddily as a child in a candy shop. Lee pulled himself away from the salvaged art gallery and paced over to the shop his partner had been rummaging in, but stopped at the door. All of the other denizens cowered in fear at Samson's presence, pretending to shuffle through items strewn in bins or strung on walls while in actuality spending their entire focus on keeping a wary eye on the reaper. Samson didn't mind. He found wearing the skull painted to the front of his helmet that marked him a reaper--a federation approved, top-tier bounty hunter--generally lent him more advantages than disadvantages when out in public spaces. 

    Lee, on the other hand, preferred to blend in with the crowd. He and Samson were a partnership, and while one of them soaked up the limelight, the other needed to be able to collect the information to track bounties down in the first place; and nobody told reapers anything. In fact, people tended to avoid them at all costs except for when they were trying to kill them or get them to kill someone else. For all the good it did him, that skull may as well have been a target; and while Samson was bred a nearly indestructible killing machine capable of ripping spacecraft apart with his bare hands, Lee wasn't. Neither was he willing to take the risk that one day some angry, drunk pirate would shiv him in the back not thinking about the consequences. Lee didn't take unnecessary risks. That's why opted to blend in with the most common, working civilian exo suit in the united federation while Samson wore battle hardened gear created by the highest ends arms dealers which he further modified to better fit his personal needs.